


Unfortunate

by Emmanuel_Park



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Inspired by Roleplay/Roleplay Adaptation, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-17
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-06-09 00:05:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6881119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emmanuel_Park/pseuds/Emmanuel_Park
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It has been many years since the events of the Blue Sect. Fortune-teller Bravat has been forced into hiding, spending his days in his hometown of rainy Glasgow. Then one day, a familiar face shows up; a demon, with a question he could never have foreseen. (Sebastian x Bravat)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is adapted from a roleplay between Fenmiu and Emmanuel_Park <3

_"When you come back you will not be you. And I may not be I."_

— E.M. Forster, _"The Other Boat"_

* * *

_"What do you want?”_

Bravat never made a move to even face the demon standing in his doorway, his back hunched over as he focused on the book - _The Red-Headed League_ \- that he held.  
  
Sebastian Michaelis and little Phantomhive had found the truth behind Bravat’s dark operation, destroyed it, now here he was, alive and hiding in the slums of Glasgow.  
  
    “From the looks of it, are you here to say Earl Phantomhive is finally satisfied and mock me?”  
He lets out a long, dry laugh, as he snaps the book shut. “Or did you regret sparing me?... I don’t mind either intent.”  
  
The Dark Prince Sebastian wore a somber expression on his face in contrast to Bravat’s glee.  
    “Ciel Phantomhive is long dead, and you know it,” he announced, stepping in the door out of the rain.  
    “Surely you do not hold grudges unto a man simply following orders.”  
  
He looked around the cramped little cottage, full of magical and mystical paraphernalia, as well as large amounts of books. There was a fire going in the hearth, and to this wet, soggy demon it was very welcoming, so he helped himself to it.  
    “I have sought you out because you are the best at what you do. Which is, of course, telling fortunes.”  
  
    “Well then, my sincerest apologies for not remembering,“ Bravat mocked. “I’ve lost count of time, is all. Nothing felt like everything mattered.”  
Bravat stood and closed the door behind him. Even with the harsh rain silenced, it tapped on the glass windows, a few droplets leaking through the windowsill.  
   “Who am I to hold a grudge?” he murmured, closing the dark blue curtains. “We were both following orders.“  
  
Even if he still held the faintest trace of resentment, what good would it do? What could he do?  
  
As the demon approached the hearth, Bravat followed and sat beside him, picking up the book in his lap.  
    “Please, Michaelis, you flatter me.“ What was once a compliment he so gladly accepted was now something that made him roll his eyes and leaves a bitter frown. ”If you came all the way here for something as silly as fortune telling from me, then I can say it must be urgent.“  
Sighing in resignation, he simply agreed. He was too exhausted to argue and question his motives.  
  
    “It can’t be helped. You remember how this works, right?” He took a half-empty cup from the table. “What do you want to know?”  
  
Sebastian narrowed his eyes, ever so slightly.  
    “Surely you of all people should not be calling your clairvoyance silly,” he murmured, the warmth of the fire licking at his face. It was calming; it reminded him of Hell. The human realm was never quite warm enough for him.  
  
    "Firstly, I would know what you would ask of me in return for these services of yours.”  
  
A demon knew better than anyone that you couldn’t have something for nothing.

Bravat blinked and stared at the crackling fire. After everything that happened, he didn’t believe his ability would give him help now, but hearing those words again… it was oddly comforting, even if it came from that demon’s mouth.  
  
    “Hah, maybe you’re right.” Bravat gave a weak laugh, scratching the back of his head. “Guess I’m the one being silly here.”  
  
He looked up at him, his fuchsia eyes reflecting the bright orange flames; presumably, what was so captivating to the demon.  
  
    “I’m not sure what I really _want_ , but I believe a safe place is all I _need_ . Out of the country, I suppose. Like France.” He playfully motioned the cup and its contents swirled. “Can you do it?”  
  
Bravat was certainly less vibrant than he had been back in the day.  
On one hand, Sebastian was satisfied, only in the sense that Ciel would have been satisfied.  
But Ciel was gone, and Sebastian himself had never had a dog in this fight; there was no point in wishing ill fortune - heh - on the mystic.  
  
    “I can do anything,” he purred, the corner of his mouth quirking upwards. “I am a Prince of Hell, my dear Mr Bravat. If the dreary climate of beautiful Scotland is dampening your spirits, then sunny France it shall be.”  
Sebastian removed his gloves, warming his slender hands with their black nails right up against the flames.  
  
    “My word is my bond. As for you…I expect your wholehearted honesty when you scry. Get whatever things you need quickly…I have waited far too long for clear answers.”  
  
Bravat nodded, a wave of relief washing over him. He saw the green pastures and the Eiffel Tower with the top beyond his sight; the old cabin in the distant town and its wooden floors creaking under his weight.  
But he was wise enough not to find immediate assurance from the same person who had put him in here in the first place.  
  
The Prince of Hell, he repeated in his mind. All this time, he’s been messing with someone of the royal bloodline.  
… Intriguing.  
  
“Alright,” was all he said, taking a needle from the drawer.  
Slightly extending the cup , he continued, “As you seem to have more of a question in mind than knowing your character, tell me what you want to know then prick your finger with the needle.”  
  
Sebastian swallowed with a hint of unease. There was nothing about this that he was comfortable with, and truly he did feel foolish for coming to this man for answers.  
    “….Very well,” he said defeatedly, not eager to confess the inner turmoil that lay deep within his black heart, but knowing he did not have a choice here.  
  
    "The truth is, since I first matured, I have been told that I am….infertile. The fruits of my labour have never bloomed. I wish to know if, at any point in my immortal life, you can see me bearing a bloodline heir.”  
Bravat incredulously raised a brow at Sebastian and his eyes focused on the clear liquid of the cup. Fascinating...  
  
    “If that’s the case, then let a droplet of your blood fall,” was all he said. If he were, to be honest, there were no words to form regarding the demon’s predicament; it was not in him to meddle.  
  
As he waited, he prepared his eyes to see a collapsar’s future.  
  
The demon obliged. He was quick to spill his blood for Bravat, pricking one black-tipped finger on the needle. A single droplet fell. Sebastian watched the pastel-haired seer seek his answers, and for the first time in a long time, he was afraid.  
  
_Would he hear what he wanted, or have his sole raison d’etre slashed?_  
  
**END OF CHAPTER 1.** **  
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	2. Chapter 2

The droplet of blood tainted the clear liquid and begun searching through the dark for a gradual form of moving figures came in his sight. All were tall, all were the same as him. He did not see a small form, a babe or chubby hands. The more he continued, his lips slightly parted, unsure on what to say. Words fumbled through and finally blurted; 

    “No. There is none.” 

**.**

There was a long silence on Sebastian’s part. He waited a moment, wishing beyond anything that Bravat would say ‘Wait a moment– I see something!’ and it would be a son, and some light would come into this demon’s life. 

     But there was nothing. 

      “…Look again,” the creature demanded, his hands becoming fists. “I don’t believe you were searching carefully enough. Do you need more blood? I’ve got an arm full of it…” 

     “No amount of your blood will change it,” Bravat told, “but I’ll look again to give you a piece of mind.” He looked into the murky water and it’s all the same. “Still none.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he said, the words forming a lump in his throat. What else he could say to pacify the demon? “It’s all I saw.” 

 

Sebastian bowed his head. “…You know I’ll end your life in a second if I think you’re lying to me?” he whispered, but his voice could barely hold a threatening tone.  “…But you wouldn’t be so stupid, would you…? You have nothing to lose and everything to gain by being honest…”  

    Bravat wouldn’t have lied.  The demon turned his gaze to the raging sky outside. It was as if the heavens were taunting him.    
   
     “ _Damn you…!_ ” 

    His claws lashed out, smacking the cup from Bravat’s hand. It shattered by the fireplace, and Sebastian hid his face in his hands. He would have told Bravat to leave, but…it _was_  his place. And Sebastian…now had nowhere to go.  

 

The demon’s face of confidence and level-headedness now wasn’t like back in the day. 

    Bravat could only watch his faltering threats and lips parted to speak of something, but quick enough to close it shut when he could think of none. He flinched when the cup fell into the hearth, as the fire blinking before igniting its usual spark while the man was oblivious to the small cut on his middle finger. 

    This is certainly not the proud demon who took him down years ago. 

    Both of them were no longer who they were years ago. 

    And he could only watch. 

 

Well, this was something that Sebastian had never anticipated.  

    When he’d pondered what he would do if Bravat had told him there was no hope of a child, it had involved curtly bidding the man farewell and striding regally from his humble dwellings. 

    The reality of the thing hit so much harder. Bravat…seemed to have some innate ability to draw the truth from someone, even a demon.  

    Thus, his true emotion came forth. “So it is hopeless,” he uttered thickly, voice quivering. “Either way, it’s better to have a definitive answer…I can…I can give up, now…” 

    His breathing hitched, the tears he’d been holding back leaking out through his long, dark lashes.  When he’d pondered today, succumbing to tears in front of the smug fortune teller had been the furthest thing on his mind.  

    Yet he couldn’t compel himself to leave. 

**.**

Right before his eyes, the supposedly great and proud demon prince was now void of hope.

     If his past self were to see this, a wave of arrogance and victory would surely grace his smile. But now, it was a tug of war between pity and the latter. Either side means the demon lashing at him. “I may not have the right to interfere in your personal matters,” Bravat spoke, voice almost a whisper, but fairly loud enough for the other to hear, “but your happiness… doesn’t end whether you will have a child or not; the future is unpredictable.“

    He shook his head and gave a dry chuckle. “I thought I was happy before. 'This is it,' I thought, but here I am.“ Sebastian will not believe that, not in this state, and Bravat knew this, but it was better than helplessly staring at the ordeal. 

    “I am a fortune teller,” he continued, “and it’s part of my job to give advice. Whether the client will act upon it depends on them - depends on you.” 

 

 _“Shut up,”_ the miserable demon hissed, kneading his forehead with black nails that were sharpening into claws. “I have seen enough, in my many years on this damned Earth. You can’t know how I have longed for my own heir. For the last century, this thought is all that has sustained me. Of course, I had to keep myself alive somehow, so I still took on contracts, all the while searching for answers.”   
    
    He raised his head, cheeks stained with tears.  “There is no reason to remain here any longer, Mr. Bravat. Not if my sole reason for continuing this wretched existence is gone.”  Sebastian turned those glistening crimson eyes towards the fire, drying them with his palms.  ”…This knowledge is sort of freeing, actually. There is solace in a definitive answer…even if it is from the likes of you.”  

 

”I’m _hurt_ ,“ Bravat dramatically sighed with hand over his chest. The gloom from this demon was insufferable. 

   Blue eyes rose to look at the demon’s gaze. “Gone?” he echoed. “While you breathe, you still have a purpose… even if you don’t know it yourself.” Apparently, his reason for existence was encouraging a demon.  

   Funny. 

 

Sebastian shook his head. "You said it yourself…There is no radiance coming from within me. I cannot bring forth any good…I am doomed to suck the life and light from anything that comes near me. A collapsar has no purpose except to eat and eat until there’s nothing left, so it starves and dies.” 

   A sudden wave of soft, shuddering sobs overtook the demon, and he fell into despair once more. 

 

Comforting other people barely did an effort , honey-laced words were enough to pull them in and move on with their life, but Sebastian was pushing him. 

   "Well -” Bravat stood and dusted off his sleeves, briefly glancing at the demon then to the window, “- don’t make rash decisions at this state, you’ll do more than regretting.” 

   He approached the cabinet, tossing a blanket and a couple of pillows at his way. “You can stay for the night if you want,” he suggested. “You don’t sleep, I know, but it might clear your head.” 

   Words were not as sincere and gentle as he did before, but it meant well.  

… Or, at least, it  _felt_ like it.


End file.
